Every season I go see my "beloved" truck; I suppose I sometimes call it a car unaware. What do I know? It is beauty in decay to me... I asked my friend recently why don't you go out and see it too, take some photos? He says because you have hundreds of them, why I need to go too?

I guess I see something he does not. That's ok.

The decay continues to mount and it seems rapidly to me. It's not a silent creeping. At least not any longer.

I am sad for the day that I will not have easy access to my beloved truck, still waiting for the perfect moment of lighting and season ... It's strange, but I enjoy this small pleasure ... Perhaps I've enjoyed the easy pleasure of having it nearby, always "there" ? Such a small comfort in a world always changing. Always tearing things down.

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It is Leaves in the Attics hope that the site and its content will exist on the Internet a long time, long after we are gone. It will take many years to develop all we can about the stories of the abandoned in our societies.

Areas we hope to cover are abandoned places and their people, the undesirables of society, in prisons, asylums, orphanages and contagion hospitals.

Other stories may include ghost towns, whole nations or civilizations, and the stories of the abandoned who called these places home before war or tragedy and environmental devastation took over.

In recent years, many urban exploration sites centralized around urban photographs of abandoned places, which exploded all over the Internet due to a popular reemergence of urban exploration some years ago.

We believe urban exploration is richer than the gathering of images or data about abandoned places, it's also the sharing of the stories about abandoned people and their history.

We care about abandoned places, but also the lives of the abandoned.... follow us...not on twitter, but into the lives of the abandoned ....